Chapter 21 Trust me.

Chapter 21 Trust me.
Morning light slid through the lace curtains like the slow opening of a wound. Selina sat at her vanity, staring at her reflection but seeing nothing. Her face looked calm, polished, ordinary, but her eyes betrayed her. They were heavy, shadowed with the kind of guilt that did not wash away with sleep.
Nathan’s side of the bed was empty, already cold. She could hear him downstairs, his voice measured, polite, giving instructions to the staff. To anyone listening, he sounded like a man perfectly in control of his household. Only Selina knew that every word was another brick in the wall of suspicion closing around her.
She touched the edge of her throat where his gaze had lingered last night. He had not said much then, but she could feel it, the quiet calculation behind every glance. Nathan knew something was wrong. He just didn’t know what, not yet.
A soft knock broke through her thoughts.
“Ma’am?” Rosa’s voice was careful. “Mr. Allen asked if you’d join him in the study after breakfast.”
Selina’s fingers tightened around her brush. “Did he say why?”
Rosa shook her head, eyes darting away. “He only said it was important.”
Of course he did. Everything was important now.
Downstairs, Nathan stood by the window, the morning sun outlining his silhouette in gold. When he turned, his expression was unreadable.
“You look pale,” he said. “Are you feeling all right?”
“I didn’t sleep much.”
“Ah.” He smiled faintly. “You’ve been restless lately. I’ve noticed.”
Selina forced a gentle laugh. “Maybe the house feels too quiet.”
Nathan watched her for a long time before answering. “Quiet can be deceptive, don’t you think? It hides more than it reveals.”
Her heart fluttered, a trapped bird in her chest. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “Nothing at all.” Then, with deliberate calm, he handed her an envelope. “This came for you. No return address.”
Her pulse jumped. The handwriting was elegant but unfamiliar. She tore it open, careful not to tremble. Inside was a single sheet, blank except for one sentence written in a clean, dark stroke: He’s watching you.
Selina froze.
Nathan’s gaze didn’t leave her face. “Bad news?”
“No… just nonsense. Probably a mistake.”
He tilted his head slightly, still studying her. “People rarely write mistakes, Selina.”
She could barely breathe. “Maybe it wasn’t meant for me.”
“Perhaps.” He smiled again, but his eyes stayed cold. “Still, I’d be careful.”
When he left the room, she collapsed into the nearest chair, clutching the letter until her knuckles whitened. The handwriting wasn’t Alan’s, or Karl’s. Someone else knew. Someone who had seen too much.
By afternoon, the house felt like a trap. Every window seemed to hold a reflection she didn’t trust, every whisper of footsteps made her flinch. She wanted to call Alan, but fear stopped her. Nathan had been unpredictable lately; she couldn’t risk him overhearing.
But Alan didn’t wait for her.
He found her in the conservatory, where the air was thick with the scent of jasmine. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he murmured.
“Alan, ” She caught herself, lowering her voice. “You shouldn’t be here.”
He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming the space between them. “I had to make sure you were all right. You haven’t answered my messages.”
“I couldn’t. He’s getting suspicious.”
“I know.” He slipped something into her hand, a small note folded twice. “Read that later. Not here.”
She glanced down at the paper, then back up. “Alan, what’s happening? Someone sent me a letter. They said he’s watching me.”
His expression darkened. “Then they’re right. He is.”
Her stomach turned. “You’ve seen something?”
“I’ve seen him watching the security feeds at night,” Alan whispered. “He’s been recording you. Every time you step outside, every time you leave your room.”
Selina’s breath hitched. “How long?”
“Long enough.” His eyes softened. “You need to be careful. He’s not going to stay quiet forever.”
She gripped the edge of the table to steady herself. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Act normal,” Alan said. “Pretend you don’t know anything. I’ll handle the rest.”
“Handle it how?” she demanded, but he only shook his head.
“Trust me.”
Those two words again. The same words that had started everything.
He left before she could say more, the door swinging shut behind him with a quiet click. For a long moment, Selina stood there, her pulse pounding in her ears. Then she unfolded the note he’d given her.
Meet me tonight. Eleven o’clock. The old west wing.
Her fingers trembled. That wing had been locked for months, unused since the renovations. If Nathan found her there…
She pressed the paper to her chest. Maybe this was madness. Maybe this was survival. She couldn’t tell the difference anymore.
When the clock struck eleven, Selina moved through the hallways like a ghost. Every shadow felt alive, every creak a warning. The west wing smelled of dust and memory. Moonlight filtered through the cracked glass, painting the floor in pale silver.
Alan was waiting by the staircase. He looked different in the dim light, softer, almost vulnerable. “You came.”
“I shouldn’t have.”
“But you did.”
They stood there, the silence between them thick with everything unsaid. Finally, she whispered, “What did you find out?”
Alan exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Nathan’s been talking to someone, another investigator. He’s looking for proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“Of us.”
Her world tilted. “Alan, ”
He reached out, stopping her words. “I won’t let him hurt you.”
“Then stop coming here,” she said, her voice breaking. “You’ll only make it worse.”
“Do you really believe that?” His tone softened. “Or are you just afraid of what you’d lose if he found out?”
Selina looked away. “I don’t even know what I have anymore.”
Alan took a step closer, lowering his voice. “You have me.”
For a moment, she almost believed him. The warmth in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice, it felt like safety, even if she knew it wasn’t. But then she remembered Karl’s warning, Nathan’s cold gaze, the letter in her drawer. Safety was an illusion she couldn’t afford.
She pulled back. “This can’t go on.”
“It can,” Alan said quietly. “If we’re careful.”
“I’m tired of being careful.”
“Then stop hiding,” he said, frustration flickering beneath his calm. “You think guilt will save you, Selina? It won’t. It’ll only make you miserable.”
She turned away, tears burning her eyes. “You don’t understand.”
He caught her hand before she could walk off. “I understand better than you think. I’m not the one pretending everything’s fine.”
Her breath trembled. “Let me go.”
Alan hesitated, then released her. “Fine. But when he turns on you, and he will, you’ll wish you had someone who didn’t.”
His words hung in the air long after he was gone.
Selina returned to her room just before dawn. The house was silent, but her thoughts screamed. She tried to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes she saw Nathan’s face, calm and distant, watching her. Or Alan’s, fierce and desperate. She didn’t know which haunted her more.
At breakfast, Nathan was already seated. He greeted her with a smile too polite to trust.
“You were up late,” he said casually.
Her heart skipped. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Strange,” he said. “I checked your room around midnight. You weren’t there.”
Selina froze. “You… checked?”
“Old habit,” Nathan said, stirring his coffee. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
Her voice came out thin. “And?”
He looked at her for a long, unbearable moment, then smiled again. “You looked peaceful.”
She stared down at her plate, unable to speak. When she finally looked up, Nathan was scrolling through his phone. Then he stopped, thumb resting over the screen, and frowned.
“What is it?” she asked.
He turned the screen toward her. It was a message notification, her name flashing at the top. The words beneath it made her blood run cold.
Last night was worth every risk. A.
Nathan’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes burned with quiet fury. “Care to explain?”
Selina’s throat went dry. “That isn’t,  I don’t know how, ”
“Of course you don’t,” he said softly, setting the phone down. “You never do.”
The silence stretched between them, heavy and final. Selina tried to breathe, but it felt like the air had turned to glass.
Nathan stood, smoothing his sleeve. “I’ll be in my office,” he said. “Try not to disappear again.”
When he left, Selina’s hands were shaking so badly she could barely hold her cup. The message still glowed on the screen, proof of everything she’d tried to hide.
She didn’t know what frightened her more, that Nathan had seen it, or that part of her still thrilled at the memory behind it.
And as the door closed behind him, Selina knew the walls of their house had finally started to close in. The lies, the glances, the risks, everything was catching up to her.
This time, there would be no escaping the cost.